


Her jumper

by bicalamity



Series: All HP WLW oneshots for easy organization [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bickering, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Flirting, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Pansy playing therapist for her crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29528868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicalamity/pseuds/bicalamity
Summary: Alternate to what happened after Ron kissed LavenderBasically Hermione is cornered by Pansy in a hallway and finds her to be very confusing
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Series: All HP WLW oneshots for easy organization [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176959
Kudos: 86





	Her jumper

Of all the things Ron could have done, Hermione could not believe he’d chosen _that_ . And with _her_ . It was such a slap in the face, and it was no wonder that Hermione had run off, just wanting to work out her anger instead of stewing in it and blowing up for everyone to see. That wasn’t something a prefect should do, at least in her opinion, even if Ron was being a _wanker_.

“What a complete and utter ass!” Hermione spat, and she rounded another abandoned hallway, grateful for some space, for some time alone.  
“Tell me about it.” Hermione jumped at the sound of a low, smoky voice behind her and kept her hand on her wand as she turned around, oddly relieved to just be looking at the arrogant smirk of one Pansy Parkinson, who was taking a drag of something that was _for sure_ not allowed on campus, but that wasn’t the point right now. 

“Merlin! Parkinson, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Hermione hissed, and Pansy chuckled and shook her head, swinging her legs down and letting them swing from the ledge she was sitting on as she regarded Hermione with a curious sort of fascination. It wasn’t completely _un_ comfortable, but Hermione also didn’t love the intensity of her gaze. Like Pansy was looking right through her skin. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to come down this way, so _sorry_ that I didn’t announce myself.” She said with a smooth chuckle, and Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning around to walk down the hallway. 

“Whatever.” Hermione muttered, starting to walk away. She didn't need this tonight.

“So… what’d he do?” Hermione heard Pansy call out, and she raised an eyebrow and turned around. Pansy Parkinson couldn’t _actually_ be asking about why she was upset…. Was she? No. Impossible. 

“Who?” Hermione asked, and Pansy gestured vaguely to where she’d come from, looking even more bored, if that was possible, then she normally did.

“Whoever you were calling an ass. Clearly they fucked up, and _obviously_ you need to talk about it.” Pansy pointed out, and Hermione set her jaw. She’d literally rather listen to a Mandrake scream then discuss her romantic follies with Pansy. 

“Not with you.” Hermione said, and Pansy cocked her head to the side questioningly as she breathed out another breath of smoke. Hermione’s nose wrinkled now that she was close enough to really smell it. Weed. Ugh. She almost preferred just regular cigarette smoke.

“Oh? And why is that?” Pansy asked, and Hermione crossed her arms. She wasn’t this daft, right? That just had to be impossible. 

“Because you’ve literally made my life hell for years.” Hermione reminded her, and Pansy let out a sigh.

“So I can’t turn over a new leaf?” She asked, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. Unlikely, but still… she should ask.

“Are you turning over a new leaf?” Hermione asked, and Pansy thought for a moment before shrugging and patting the ledge beside her.

“I’ll decide that later. But I’m feeling generous right now, so talk.” Pansy said, hugging one of her knees to her chest. Well, at least Pansy wasn’t in her house, right? So Hermione hopped up on the ledge and nearly fell _right_ off, if it weren’t for Pansy quickly reaching out and settling an arm around her waist, just for a moment to hold her up. It sent a shock of electricity up her arm, maybe there was static in the air. 

“It’s… Ron.” Hermione said, and Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“Weasley?” She asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Merlin, maybe Pansy _was_ daft. 

“Yes. The only _Ron_ in this school.” She snapped, and Pansy held up her hands in defense, but she looked almost… amused. Weird. 

“Don’t bite my head off! It never hurts to clarify!” Pansy said, and Hermione supposed that was fair.

“Right.” She sighed, and Pansy looked over at her again, for the first time _ever_ looking open and almost like she could be accepting. Now _that_ threw Hermione off her rhythm, that was for sure. 

“So what did he do?” Pansy asked softly, and Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands for a moment before she felt two thin hands gently wrap around her wrists to pry them off her face. So Pansy Parkinson likes eye contact, noted. Not that Hermione needed to note that, it wasn’t like this was ever happening again.

“We were at the Gryffindor party, in the common room and he… he _kissed_ Lavender Brown.” Hermione said bitterly, and Pansy looked unfazed as she took another drag. 

“Hm. And this is a problem because…?” She asked, and Hermione looked over at her helplessly. How was it _not_ clear?! 

“Because I thought he fancied me!” Hermione said, hating how pitiful her voice sounded. Pansy made a noise of recognition as she nodded, like she was processing it all.

“Okay. But. You never actually made that known, now did you?” Pansy asked, and Hermione let out a defeated sigh as she shook her head. Of course she hadn’t, but body language speaks volumes.

“No, but I thought it was obvious.” She mumbled, and Pansy let out a chuckle and shook her head, like Hermione was some kind of fool.

“Oh Hermione, Hermione, Hermione… teenage boys are _idiots._ Unless you’re a walking pair of tits, chances are they aren’t paying that close of attention.” Pansy said, and Hermione’s jaw dropped in shock because _that_ wasn’t a fair observation. Maybe it was with Pansy’s friends, Hermione didn’t know much about the crowd she ran in aside from Draco, but it _certainly_ wasn’t the case for Ron or Harry. 

“That’s… a disgustingly broad generalization.” She huffed, and Pansy chuckled and shrugged, like it didn’t matter.

“Yes, but it works. Ron is interested in three things from what I can tell: Quidditch. Harry Potter. And for whatever reason, policing his sister’s relationships. And yeah, I also thought the two of you had something going on on the low, but I was apparently wrong.”

“Ron has more interests than that.” Hermione snapped, and Pansy raised an eyebrow, like this was funny somehow.

“Right. I forgot food.” Pansy said with a snort and Hermione clenched her fist to keep from slapping the other witch across her perfect, pristine, face. Hermione doubted she’d ever even had someone tell her no, let alone have someone hit her.

“Stop it! He’s a three dimentional person!” Hermione protested, and Pansy snorted and took another drag before speaking.

“Oh, I’m sure.” She said with a chuckle, and Hermione let out a huff of frustration and crossed her arm, looking away down the abandoned hallway.

“Ugh, why am I even talking about this with you?” Hermione snapped, and Pansy shrugged, giving her a half smile that was almost sweet. Almost.

“Because really, who am I going to tell?” She asked, and Hermione shrugged. Daphne Greengrass. Tracey Davis. Millicent Bulstrode. Draco Malfoy. To name a few, but it seemed like that wasn’t Pansy’s vibe right now.

“You could taunt me.” Hermione finally said, and Pansy nodded.

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly in the mood. Sort of in my own mind tonight, you know?” Pansy asked, and Hermione could detect the note of sadness in her voice, the blankness of her stare. Either Pansy was _gone_ or she was trying to get there, and for some reason, Hermione was compelled to find out why. 

“Why’s that?” Hermione asked, figuring that since Pansy had asked, she should do the same. Common courtesy. But Pansy merely shrugged and stared off in the distance.

“It’s just been… one of those nights.” She said with a sigh, and _yeah,_ that was as vague as it sounded. What was Hermione meant to do with that? 

“Hm. Transparent.” Hermione said, and Pansy chuckled and shook her head.

“Well, _I’m_ not the one stomping down hallways with no jacket on.” Pansy pointed out, and Hermione scoffed. No need to be rude. 

“I didn’t stomp! And I don’t need a coat!” Hermione protested, and Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes, gripping her own sweater in her hands like she was trying to choke it. When had she even taken it off? Hermione couldn’t remember.

“Sort of did. And yes you do, you’ve been shivering for the past five minutes. Here. I’m not even using it.” Pansy said, holding it out, and Hermione paused, wanting to turn it down. But Pansy was right, she had goosebumps and she was _freezing,_ so she grabbed the bundle of fabric and pulled it over her head. 

“You’re a wanker.” She said, and tried to ignore the slight pleasant scent of lilacs because _of course_ someone as crass and rude as Pansy had to smell like something delicate and lovely, just more of a way to fuck with her head. 

“I know. But… just so you know, I do think Weasley’s a fool.” Pansy sighed, blowing smoke out of her nose as she did. Hermione let out a dry, humorless chuckle as she looked over at the Slytherin who was regarding her _almost_ warmly. 

“Why?” She asked, and Pansy shrugged, as if the answer should’ve been obvious, but clearly it _wasn’t._

“Because he had a girl interested in him who is _so_ far out of his bloody league.” Pansy said with a chuckle, and that shocked Hermione so much that she almost fell off the ledge. She didn’t know if it was the fact that Pansy had just _said_ that, or the way she’d said it. So casually, like that's how she _always_ spoke to Hermione. 

“Excuse me?” She asked, knowing her voice sort of cracked on the last word, and Pansy glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Pansy asked, and Hermione couldn’t find the words for a moment because _Pansy wasn’t ever nice to her_ , so it was clear she _wanted_ something, something Hermione wouldn’t even dignify with a thought. 

“Are you _hitting_ on me?” Hermione asked, completely taken aback, and Pansy gave her a smirk, raising her eyebrow as she leaned forward, blowing out more smoke right into Hermione’s face. 

“I don’t know. Am I?” She asked, her eyes flitting down to Hermione’s mouth for a moment, which made her mind go blank. Just for a second. Before she remembered who they were and _where_ they were. Pansy Parkinson was not allowed to fucking hit on her. 

“Stop it.” Hermione said, and Pansy raised an eyebrow, suddenly acting completely innocent.

“Stop what?” She asked, and Hermione shrugged and rolled her eyes. Oh like she didn’t already _know_ . 

“Confusing me.” Hermione said, and Pansy smirked at this. Fucking wanker.

“How am I confusing you?” Pansy asked, clearly a little amused, and Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. It was the same frustrating, confusing feeling she’d felt when meeting Fleur Delacour, so maybe that was just how she was meant to feel with people she didn’t like.

“I… I don’t know, but cut it out!” Hermione snapped, and Pansy chuckled and shook her head, leaning back a bit, almost enough that Hermione considered putting an arm out so she didn’t fall, but Pansy didn’t seem too worried about that. How reckless.

“I can’t cut out something that I’m not even conscious of. You’re smart enough to know that, Granger.” Pansy murmured, a little too close to Hermione’s ear. It caused her to shiver, her hair standing a little on end. Pansy’s breath smelled like spearmint and firewhiskey, not an unpleasant conversation, just not something Hermione had prepared herself for.

“Just stop… _not_ being you.” Hermione insisted, and this seemed to irritate the Slytherin, who straightened her posture and cleared her throat, shooting a cold glare over at the Gryffindor. 

“With all due respect, you’ve got no clue what kind of a person I _really_ am.” Pansy snapped, and Hermione was _so_ ready for Pansy to be angry, at least she knew how to deal with that side of the witch. 

“Yeah I do.” Hermione spat back, and Pansy chuckled, a rueful smirk on her face.

“Oh? Do tell.” Pansy said, and Hermione let out a heavy sigh and cleared her throat, trying to think of _all_ the things she wanted to say to Pansy right now. The situation called for more nuanced things than just ‘you’re a bitch’, she knew that much. 

“You’re rude, and you’re mean and crass and dating the school’s biggest blood purist-.” Pansy held up a well manicured finger to cut her off, eyebrow raised as she did.

“Correction. Not dating Draco. We’re friends. Continue.” She sighed, leaning back again.

“You make fun of _anyone_ you think is below you and treat everyone like _shit_ !” Hermione said, her voice growing louder on the last word, which only lent to a more uncomfortable silence when she was done speaking. 

“I know.” Pansy sighed, and Hermione let out a frustrated groan as she glanced over at the eerily calm witch, taking her final drag. She was infuriating.

“So then you _know_ this isn’t how you act.” Hermione pointed out, and Pansy chuckled and shrugged, shifting a little closer to Hermione as she did. It made her want to crawl out of her skin, feeling the warmth of Pansy’s skin, the faint smell of lilac now _that_ much more strong with her practically leaning into Hermione. 

“I can be nice when I choose, Granger. Just the same as how I’m sure you can be rude when you want to be. Maybe when a girl is overly feminine, too, in your eyes, interested in boys and not enough in academics… I see the way you look at me and my friends. Like we’re idiots.” Pansy said, her voice deadpan as she flicked ash off the butt of her joint, still smouldering. Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed at Pansy’s statement. She didn’t treat people like they were idiots.

“I don’t-.” She started to protest, but was cut off by a simple quirk of Pansy’s eyebrow.

“You do. And the sooner you admit it, and come to terms with it, the better. You’re telling me you’ve _never_ been rude about another woman?” Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow and Hermione chewed on her lip. Sure, she hadn’t been Fleur’s biggest _fan_ but she didn't know if that was rude… and everyone had their own opinions on their dormmates, Hermione just didn’t _love_ hers. 

“Well-.” Hermione started, and Pansy chuckled and nodded, as if that alone was enough to prove her point. It obviously wasn’t, but who was Hermione to try and fight that?

“Exactly. We’re both wankers, Hermione. At least _I_ own it.” Pansy sighed, and she hopped down off the ledge and stomped out her joint, giving Hermione one last wave of recognition before turning on her heel to walk down to the dungeon. It took Hermione’s brain a moment to catch up on one key detail… Pansy had called her _Hermione_ . She jumped off the ledge and jogged after the Slytherin’s retreating frame. 

“Parkinson, wait.” Hermione called, and Pansy stopped and turned around, nearly causing Herimone to run right into her. Instead of a biting comment like Hermione was still expecting, Pansy reached out and steadied her

“What?” She asked, and Hermione looked up, suddenly feeling like an idiot. Why had she chased Pansy down for something so trivial? Well, there was no reason to not ask now, she supposed.

“Since when am I ‘Hermione’ to you?” Hermione asked, and Pansy shrugged, tucking her hands into her pants pockets as she did.

“Since I realized just how cute you look in my jumper. Green really is your color, love.” Pansy said quietly, and Hermione cleared her throat, trying to ignore how dry it had become at Pansy’s words, at the soft touch of her hand on her arm. Hermione hadn’t really thought of it, because they were always on opposite sides of altercations, but Pansy had a very gentle grip when she wanted to. But now Hermione wanted to crawl out of her skin again, or maybe just out of Pansy’s jumper. Maybe that would do.

“I can give it back-.” Pansy put a hand on her arm to stop her, and Hermione looked up to see the Slytherin slowly raking her eyes up her frame, a smirk on her face. And there it was, the feeling that Pansy was staring _right_ through her skin. How were people _friends_ with her? That had to be so confusing. 

“Keep it. I’ve got loads. I’ll see you around, Hermione Granger.” Pansy murmured, and before Hermione could say anything she felt the other witch grab her hand, and for a moment she panicked, because what if this was when Pansy finally hurt her? But no, she merely brought Hermione’s hand to her lips and kissed the back of it, like a gentleman might to a lady before a formal dance, and winked at her before dropping it and turning to continue her descent to the dungeons. Hermione, for her part, was dumbfounded as she stood there, looking down at the lipstick mark on the back of her hand, torn between leaving it and scrubbing it off her skin to avoid questions. She decided on the former and tucked her hand into the sleeve before climbing back up to the Gryffindor tower and walking into the common room, empty now save for Harry, who looked exhausted on his spot on the couch. Hermione walked over and heaved a sigh as she sat down beside him.

“Where’d you run off to?” Harry asked, opening one eye to look over at her, and Hermione cleared her throat and shrugged. Obviously he was worried, he’d watched one of his best friends storm off with no explanation, but Hermione really didn’t want to explain right now, it was too bizarre.

“I just needed to go for a walk.” She mumbled, and Harry stretched and looked over at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay… whose jumper is that?” he asked, and she glanced down at the green jumper, how it hung nearly to her knees. She supposed that made sense, Pansy was tall and it was oversized on _her_ . Luckily, that gave her some leeway… she could lie and say it was a boy’s… but then Harry would demand to know _who_ , and that just made the lie even deeper, so she settled on not telling him. 

“Oh uh… a friend gave it to me.” Hermione said, and Harry raised an eyebrow as he scanned the fabric, like he was trying to place whose it was.

“Who?” He asked, and Hermione shook her head. As if words could explain how she’d gotten Pansy’s jumper.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re… not exactly open about our friendship.” Hermione mumbled, her cheeks burning at the idea of having to explain that she was wearing Pansy _fucking_ Parkinson’s jumped. Harry seemed convinced enough as he yawned and leaned his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. 

“Noted.” Harry sighed, and Hermione leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder as she thought about the fact that she was still wearing Pansy Parkinson’s sweater. In a moment of weakness Hermione pulled the fabric to her nose and inhaled the scent of firewhiskey, lilac, leather and vanilla. A smell that used to insight a sort of panic in her now seemed… almost inviting. Like maybe she was open to another accidental late night meeting, because it was effective. She _certainly_ wasn't thinking about Ron anymore.


End file.
